--'Stoical imperturbability appears to be a marked feature in your
heroes. There are many people who have seen the character of the
Japanese in many lights and appreciate it, and yet are unable to
perceive their feelings, or I might rather say, sentimental qualities.
They are curious to know if the Japanese nature is much developed in
that respect.'
--'Well, I can tell you, as far as I may be permitted to judge my own
countrymen, we have much feeling and sentimental elements. At the very
bottom of the stoicism of Bushi there flows hidden streams of feeling
and sentimentality, often imperceptible to the onlooker. In one way, I
am of opinion that our heart is filled with even too much feeling and
sentimentality, and I am inclined to believe it is our weak point, for
feeling and sentimentality are often accompanied by over-scrupulousness
and over-sensitiveness, and with us this disposition exercises much
influence, not only in our private affairs, but also in politics and
diplomacy. In this world, in which some people say that politics, still
more international diplomacy, knows not morality, the fact that we are
so scrupulous often hinders our politics and diplomacy, and yet we do
not regret it, for the time may come when the just traits of our
character will be discovered by the world at large, and receive its
approval.'
--'You are,' said the duchess, 'well acquainted with our common saying,
"Honesty is the best policy," and my earnest hope is that your country
will never imitate some of the European politics. But, baron, let me ask
another question: Granted that the moral and ethical training of Japan
is a religion, as I do, yet I cannot entirely see how that training
could have been instilled in the minds of millions of men so deeply.
When one hears of thousands rushing on to certain death at a word of
command (as we have often heard of the Japanese troops), one is almost
tempted to think there may be something in it which promises a reward in
the future life for such a death, as is the case with the Mohammedan
creed; but I understand that there is nothing of the sort in your
training, and that the fact of your soldiers being so fearless of death
has nothing to do with religion in its ordinarily accepted sense. I can
very well imagine that this or that group of honourable men, picked out
of multitudes, could be of that type, but it almost amazes me when we
see hundreds of thousands of men, one and all, being animated by the
same spirit, without any exception.'
--'I cannot,' I answered, 'profess that every man of our troops is so
high-minded as you say, or at least, I cannot say so myself, being
Japanese; but assuming it to be the case, the kind of doubt to which you
give expression is entertained by many Occidentals, and questions to
that effect have often been put to me. I can, however, give no other
answer than to repeat that there is no such religious belief in our
case, as there is in Mohammedanism. In Europe one often engages in a
deadly duel on account of some dispute, sometimes for public reasons,
but often for other reasons which do not appear commendable to
outsiders: those who fight surely do not risk their lives from any
religious belief in their cause. They do so because, as far as they
themselves are concerned, a consideration of honour demands. This
sentiment is exactly similar to our sense of honour, only in our case we
have, perhaps, made it more rational and more general. To attain this
ideal, a long training and preparation is necessary, but when once
attained, there is nothing to wonder at. If one imagined that a man
killed in a duel on account of a quarrel over a woman sacrificed his
life because he believed he would be happy in a future life,--if he died
in that fashion, every one else would laugh at him. Why, then, is there
anything to wonder at when we say that we Japanese can be fearless of
death without connecting it with a religious belief of the future life,
for a cause which is far nobler than that of the ordinary Western custom
of sacrificing one's life in a duel. The _morale_ of our troops is the
result purely of ordinary ethical training and diffusion of national
traditions. Loyalty and patriotism are the highest ideals of the
Japanese nation. Japanese ethics have taught for centuries how to die an
honourable death, and yet one must not think that Japanese ethics teach
only how to die: they also teach how to live.'
--'What do you mean by that?'
--'I mean to say, in Bushido, death was not valued for its own sake,
even in a battle, for if one died a useless or dishonourable death, it
was called a dog's death, which, of course, is a term of contempt. We
still have the same notion of death. In a book on Bushido, entitled
_Chiku-ba-sho_, written in the fourteenth century A.D., by
Shiwa-Yoshimasa, as I mentioned the other day, we have in the very
opening page, as follows:
'Men who handle bows and arrows [military men] should do their
part, thinking not only of their own persons, but of the names of
their descendants. They should not incur a perpetually irksome name
[permanent bad reputation] on account of a greed for life, which is
after all of short duration. But, on the other hand, if they cast
away their lives when they ought not to die, they will also incur a
discreditable name. The chief point is that life should be
sacrificed when it is honourable to do so, in behalf of the supreme
lord [the emperor], or on account of an affair which is of great
importance to the generalissimo of their bows and arrows [the
Shogun]. Only by thus behaving can the famous names of the
descendants be secured and perpetuated. As a Bushi, one should
never be light-minded; on the contrary, he should always be
thoughtful and meditative. The majority of men pass their time
saying they would behave aptly when time and circumstances
requiring it arrive. Such people generally experience great
difficulty when any emergency unexpectedly arises, and generally
regret afterwards that they had missed the opportunity when they
ought to have died. The training of the mind of the best
bow-handlers [warriors] and of Buddhists is said to be identical.
In all cases, restlessness of mind is deplorable.'
--'The term "name" plays a great part in your ethical notions, as I see
from the quotation you have just given,' said the duchess. 'You yourself
have also spoken about it in your peroration to the article on Japanese
education, which you published in the _Independent Review_. I was
reading that article this very morning, and had intended to ask you for
a further explanation about it, but I think I have now caught the idea,
though it is somewhat vague to me still. The idea of doing one's part,
thinking of the names of one's descendants, as the book you have just
quoted speaks about, sounds somewhat odd to our ears. It will be always
puzzling to the generality of the Occidentals.'
--'Why so,' I answered; 'you Occidentals seem always to make simple
matters difficult to comprehend, when they would be quite clear if only
viewed in a light, not deep, philosophical manner. The spirit of the
dictum I have just quoted has always been maintained in our ethics,
under all circumstances. As you say, no human creature can love death;
it is against nature, and, therefore, we Japanese value life no less
than other races; but we study how to live and how to die, and when
circumstances require, we value our life lighter than the proverbial
feather: that's all.'
--'And yet it is a problem for us,' said the duchess.
--'And it is plain to us who have grown up in such an atmosphere,
although it may be somewhat difficult for foreigners to understand.'
--'Do you think those noble characteristics will last long under the
influence of modern civilisation?' asked the duchess.
--'It is a question,' I answered, 'but I hope and believe it will last;
indeed, we must make it do so.'
--'But now, to take up the thread of our original conversation,' said
the duchess. 'Politically speaking, I am of the opinion that Russia
ought to make friends with you, and that my long, endearing hope for an
_entente_ between England, France, Russia, and your country ought to be
effected for the security of peace at large and for the benefit of
humanity.'
--'I appreciate,' I answered, 'the general trend of your discourse, and
I know it has been your line of politics for many years, and not a view
invented merely to please me. I sympathise with you all the more when I
hear you confessing the weak points of an ally and paying high tribute
to my country. The time may come when your cherished idea may be
realised, but at present the prospects do not look bright. The greatest
obstacle in the path is the pretensions of the Russians. They will not
reconcile themselves to the idea that we Japanese are also a nation
which deserves the name of a civilised race.'
--'They will and must do so in time,' said the duchess.
--'We Japanese are modest. We do not give ourselves airs. I say this
frankly and sincerely. It is neither presumption nor self-conceit, it is
my pure conviction; but we like to be treated with proper consideration.
A few days ago an interview which I gave to a French weekly was
published. The subject was somewhat akin to our present conversation. A
telegram from Washington, which was published in some journals, stated
that the Russians in America were irritated because President Roosevelt
had given an informal reception to Baron Komura. It also stated that the
Russians were inspiring the impression that Mr. Roosevelt was annoyed
with Great Britain because she had refused to put pressure on Japan to
be moderate, and so on. The gist of my observation on the telegram
was:--
'It was understood that the plenipotentiaries of both countries
should arrive in Washington before the first part of August. The
Japanese plenipotentiaries arrived punctually at the prearranged
date, but the Russian plenipotentiaries were belated, as we all
know, and yet complaints are made that it was Mr. Roosevelt's
partiality towards Japan which made him receive the Japanese
plenipotentiaries informally. I cannot see why the president should
not offer cordiality to his distinguished guests, be they Japanese
or Russian, on their arrival. England is not less anxious to see
the termination of the present war than any other nation, but I do
not see why England should put pressure upon Japan to give
advantage to Russia, inasmuch as she knows that Japan is not a
nation to make any unreasonable demand upon her worsted foe.
President Roosevelt knows all this. I also believe that while the
president is determined to be quite impartial in the matter, he is
not inclined to oppress Japan in order to give any unreasonable
advantage to Russia, nor does he expect to see England do so
either.
--'You see, such sentiments as those expressed in the telegram, which I
do not consider a misrepresentation, cannot but arise from some idea of
prestige, with which the Russians imagine they have been endowed to a
much higher degree by nature than Japan has been. There is another point
they have made a great deal of fuss about, and which they cannot get out
of their heads. It is the first torpedoing of the Russian fleets at the
entrance of Port Arthur, which took place, as you know, on the night of
the 8-9th of February last year. They always speak of it as a
treacherous attack. As a matter of fact, however, it was nothing of the
sort, as may be seen from all the circumstances which forced us into the
war, and which are known to all the world. Our justification has become
more evident since the revelation of the secret history of the Russian
politics of the time. There even exists a secret treaty between China
and Russia, made at the time when Russia obtained a concession from
China for the construction of the Manchurian railways. The purport of
the treaty, which is now no longer a secret, is no other than that
Russia and China were to regard Japan as their enemy, and to menace her
by the use of that railway. China soon discovered the fallacy: she soon
saw that Japan had not the disposition represented by the Russians.
Russia would perhaps now say that the treaty was only made for the
purpose of obtaining the concession: I hope it was so, but who knows
that it had been so from the beginning? In spite of all this, Japan had
always adopted a conciliatory attitude before the outbreak of the war--a
war in which, to use a phrase of President Roosevelt's memorable message
to the American Congress, "it was necessary for the aggrieved nation
valiantly to stand up for its rights." Remember, I do not quote this in
any vainglory. Moreover, when the war became inevitable, we gave a clear
notice of war to our opponents (on the 6th of that month). Perhaps you
have seen the White Book of Japan relating to the subject.'
--'I saw a French translation of it,' said the duchess, 'and it has
modified considerably the early impressions, not only of myself, but of
most people.'
--'I am glad of that,' I said. 'It is true that the Emperor of Japan
issued on the 10th of that month a formal declaration of war, but it was
addressed to his own subjects, and its aim was to make the actual
situation known to them and also indirectly to the neutrals. As far as
Russia and Japan are concerned, the notice of the 6th, whereby Japan
announced to Russia that she would take an "independent action," was
nothing else than a declaration of war. It is, therefore, unfair to
state that the first attack on Port Arthur was a "treacherous attack" or
"an attack by surprise," even if there were no other reasons which
justify Japan's action.'
--'And yet the Russian statesman, for instance, wrote in the same
remarkable letters that "the whole world knows that Japan and not Russia
has provoked the present war," and spoke of Japan, in reference to the
first battle of Port Arthur, as "guilty of a criminal breach of peace,"
and of that battle as a "piratical night attack." He went on so far as
to stigmatise Japan as "this bullying and bellicose nation." It is the
more remarkable that all this had been done after the plain facts of the
truth had come into the possession of the world. In the course of my
refutation I stated that torpedoing was not a surprise attack in the
sense of International Law, as the Russian statesman affirms; at the
most it could only be construed as a tactical surprise, but in reality
it was not even of that nature. I gave my reason therefor, to which the
Russian statesman replied, that "a Japanese is the only person who can
make any difference between a surprise and a tactical surprise, and no
educated European can make such a difference." The difference itself is
plain enough. Tactical surprises come under no sphere of international
question. The Russian troops themselves are daily practising them in the
war. In spite of it, he feigns his ignorance. In my reply I had to
detail and to develop my argument a step further. If you are not already
wearied, I will recall a passage of my letter in question:
'With regard to the Port Arthur question, I should like in the
first place to ask the Russian statesman as to what Russia herself
did in all warlike engagements before the battle of Narva, and also
when the army of his country entered Poland in 1733; when it
entered Moldavia and took possession of Chotsin, Bender, and Jassi
in 1806; when the Russian ships fired into, and sunk or captured,
some Greek ships and made an attack upon Poros in 1831? Further,
how was it when the Russian troops made raids on the coasts of the
northern islands of Japan unexpectedly and repeatedly in the
beginning of the nineteenth century, on which occasions they
slaughtered our innocent villagers and burned our villages, or when
they attacked and occupied our Island of Tsushima in 1861?--in all
these cases there having been no cause or reason whatever for the
hostility perpetrated, and that, too, without the slightest
warning. Above all, I should like to call his attention to the
proposal which his country made through its ambassador, Baron
Brunnow, to the Diplomatique Corps of the Great Powers at
Constantinople in 1840, concerning Egypt. The Russian ambassador
offered various schemes for action, the pith of which was to be
found in the following words:
'"To execute all these measures with the greatest promptitude, and
with the greatest secrecy,--promptitude, because it is the only
means of ensuring their success; secrecy, because the blow must
first be struck before it is announced."'
Having read so far, I continued: 'After I had thus written, I proceeded
to elucidate that, "with these facts in view, the Russians had no right
to calumniate Japan, even if their country were attacked by surprise,"
and that, "nevertheless, Japan had done nothing of the sort, as is plain
from other facts." Such is the case on our side.'
--'That point is now wholly cleared up in the eyes of the world,' said
the duchess. 'The Russians certainly ought not to grumble endlessly over
the milk which they themselves spilled!'
--'I may remind you of a still more fresh instance of the
unscrupulousness of the Russians themselves. At the time of the
ratification of the treaty of Simonoseki, did not the Russian admiral
commanding the Pacific fleet propose to the French admiral commanding
the French fleet in the same water to attack and destroy the Japanese
fleet by a deliberate surprise! Was it not only restrained from being
carried out by the judicious refusal of the French admiral on the ground
that he had received no such instruction from his government! We cannot,
of course, be thankful to France for joining the memorable combination
of the three powers, but we remember with pleasant recollection the
noble determination of her admiral.'
--'Thank God! our action was correct, at least in that respect.'
--'You must be quite sickened,' I said, 'of the hackneyed talk of the
"Yellow Peril" cry, and the "Pan-Asiatic" ambition attributed to Japan,
because you know they are all groundless. The same Russian statesman
dilated on them also: if he really entertains any belief in them his
conception is erroneous; if he does not, and still says so, it is most
unfair. I assured him that Japan knew no such ambition, and gave vent to
my conviction in this manner. I hope you will kindly listen to me.
'There is no possibility of "Panasianism" even if Japan had dreamed
of it, nor is there any likelihood of the Western powers being
endangered by the ascendency of Japan. The insinuation of your
writer that the English and American commerce would be jeopardised
by Japan's victory, and, therefore, Japan ought to be thoroughly
defeated, is a most absurd proposition. To begin with, Japan's
victory would never prejudice the commercial interests of those
countries; on the contrary, they would be more safeguarded. But
suppose it did, it would be for England and America to look after
those matters before the Russians did for them. England and
America, however, are amongst those countries which are most
sympathetic with Japan. I can put it in another way. Suppose, after
Japan's success in this war, Japan's industry should be more
developed, it would only serve more to stimulate the commerce
between the East and West. Supposing, however, that the development
of Japan's industry be more or less detrimental to the Western
commerce, is it just and humane--let me repeat, is it just and
humane, to formulate a doctrine that she is to be crushed because
there is a fear that her industry might be developed? It would be
like a rich person formulating the doctrine that a poor neighbour
of his ought to be murdered for no other reason than a vague
apprehension that he might possibly become a prosperous man.
'That is what I answered the Russian statesman. But even at this moment
such speculative opinions are widespread. I can only hope that Japan's
real motive and aspiration for emulating occidental civilisation is now
becoming better known to the Western nations, at all events to the bulk
of the French people.'
--'I believe so, too,' said the duchess. 'But one thing which strikes me
is that, while on the one hand many people depict Japan by her huge
shadow, even a greater number of people speak of Japan as a small
country, as though she were no more than Belgium, Holland, or Denmark. A
country which competes with the United Kingdom of Great Britain and
Ireland, France, or even Germany, in the size of her territory and
number of population, cannot be a small country.'
--'It is perhaps because we Japanese do not parade ourselves. We prefer
to speak of ourselves as small in deference to the modern civilisation
of the Western nations. Besides, we are not so wealthy as the occidental
nations. We always feel it. It often prevents us from doing better
things.'
--'But your country is not poor.'
--'We are not poor. I am only speaking comparatively with the great
powers of the West. The volume of our commerce has risen from a few
millions to six or seven hundred million yens in less than forty years.
In a way we ought to be satisfied.'
--'I suppose the people are happy.'
--'Well, I may say so. We have no very rich classes, but at the same
time we have no extreme poverty as yet. Only the other evening a
compatriot of mine who had travelled in the country near Tours told me
that the common people there lived in small caves in the cliffs, or on
the slopes of the hills, and they were all barefooted when they were at
home, or were at work in the vintage. I hear there are many such in
Britain also. It sounds rather odd for France. And more! Paris is a
wonderful town. It is a place of the agglomeration of everything
extreme. A little time ago, accompanied by a few Frenchmen, I made a
round of visits to all sorts of places through the whole night in order
to see Paris by night. I saw many night shows to begin with: I saw many
gay places: I saw several dens of the poor. Among the shows, that of
Niente struck me most. It seemed so strange to entertain visitors with
beer at tables which are coffins, and in a room lighted by a chandelier
constructed of human bones. A small cave tavern made right in the
ground, where the poor were enjoying bocks of beer, and listening to
some indifferent musical performance, was also interesting. I asked from
where they got the air into the place. The answer was "nowhere." But
what impressed me most was a den of the destitute, where the poor get
permission to sleep for one night, and to receive a basin of soup, at a
total cost of twopence. When I visited the dens, it was far on in the
night. I saw some four or five hundred men, clad in rags most of them,
leaning on tables, asleep, in different cellars connected by narrow
passages, right deep in the ground. Naturally also many were lying on
the ground, and several on the stone staircases. These cellars could not
have been made for such a purpose, and I was unable to divine for what
they had been originally used. Perhaps they had been the cellars of some
great wine merchant. I don't think you yourself can have seen such a
place, but you can imagine the awfulness of the sight. Indeed, the
French gentleman who was with me said he began to feel upset. I am happy
to say that we have not such extreme cases of poverty in our country up
to the present generation.'
--'I am afraid it is such cases as these that give good pretext to the
socialistic movement,' said the duchess. 'It is a great problem. But to
return to our subject, you have no embassy in Europe, as all other great
powers have. You have only legations, with ordinary ministers, like
secondary powers. It might have been one cause why ordinary people think
Japan is such a small country.'
--'It may be so,' I answered, 'in one way; but you see we have not had
any particular reason to make ourselves ostentatious, and besides, the
matter does not rest with one side only.'
--'It is rather singular,' said the duchess, 'that the world has not
discovered the real character of the Japanese for so long a time. But
yet there was at least one man who realised it ninety years ago. I have
read an account about him in a recent issue of the English press. It was
in the year 1813, and, therefore, at the time when Java was under
English occupation. Lord Minto (ancestor of the new viceroy) was then
Viceroy of India, and it seems Sir Stamford Raffles was the chief
representative of the British East India Company out in the East. The
latter sent in that year an Englishman, Dr. Daniel Ainslie, to whom was
attached a Dutchman, Wardenaar by name, to Nagasaki on a mission to look
after English interests, and to make a confidential report on the
situation in Japan. The mission was a failure; the time was not ripe
enough. But the impression Sir Stamford obtained through Dr. Ainslie is
interesting. It reads as fresh as though it had been brought back from
Japan only yesterday, and speaks for itself:
'The refusal of the Japanese, instigated by the prejudiced and
stiff-necked Dutchman, Hendrik Doeff, to trade with the English,
did not bias Sir Stamford's mind against them. Dr. Ainslie, in whom
he had implicit confidence, sent him voluminous reports, and on
them he formed a judgment most favourable to the Japanese in every
respect. Expression was given to these opinions in Sir Stamford's
presidential address to the Batavian Society of Arts and Sciences
on September 11, 1815. The following extracts are those of the most
direct importance; "I need only offer a few notices on the
character which they appeared to Dr. Ainslie to display during a
residence of four months, and as far as he had the opportunity of
judging. They are represented to be a nervous, vigorous people,
whose bodily and mental powers assimilate much nearer to those of
Europe than what is attributed to Asiatics in general. Their
features are masculine and perfectly European, with the exception
of the small, lengthened Tartar eye, which almost universally
prevails, and is the only feature of resemblance between them and
the Chinese. The complexion is perfectly fair, and indeed blooming,
the women of the higher classes being equally fair with Europeans,
and having the bloom of health more generally prevalent among them
than is usually found in Europe. For a people who have had very
few, if any, external aids, the Japanese cannot but rank high in
the scale of civilisation....
'"The Chinese have been stationary, at least as long as we have
known them, but the slightest impulse seems sufficient to give a
determination to the Japanese character which would progressively
improve until it attained the same height of civilisation with the
European....
'"The Japanese, with an apparent coldness like the stillness of the
Spanish character, and derived nearly from the same causes--that
system of espionage and that principle of disunion dictated by the
principles of both Governments--are represented to be eager of
novelty and warm in their attachments, open to strangers, and,
hating the restrictions of their political institutions, a people
who seem inclined to throw themselves into the hands of any nation
of superior intelligence. They have, at the same time, a great
contempt and disregard of everything below their own standard of
morals and habits, as instanced in the case of the Chinese."
'These remarks, uttered ninety years ago, show that at least one
discerning mind had appreciated all the difference between the
Japanese and other Asiatics, judged according to the accepted views
among Europeans. It was the apathy of the home authorities that
alone prevented the establishment nearly a century ago of an
_entente cordiale_ between England and Japan as the consequence of
the strenuous effort of Sir Stamford Raffles to promote commercial
relations at Nagasaki.'
At this juncture the duke returned with his two daughters; joining us
very soon, he said to me:
--'Have you noticed the controversy about French patriotism waging in
the papers just now? I wish all Frenchmen were as patriotic as your
countrymen.'
--'I have noticed,' I said, 'but I believe that whatever opinion one may
entertain, or whatever views one may express, in the innermost shrine of
the heart of every Frenchman there is treasured a phrase, "La France:
c'est le pays de mon cœur." It cannot be otherwise.'
--'I hope so,' rejoined the duke. 'To love one's own country, which is
patriotism, is almost a natural instinct. The only difference is the
degree of intensity.'
--'Let me tell you,' I proceeded, 'how I came to remember that phrase,
and excuse me if my talk is somewhat delicate. It is now more than
twenty years ago, perhaps you remember, when a young cantatrice,
together with her companion-maid, put an end to their lives, under
romantic but tragic circumstances, beneath the windows of the chateau of
a young foreign nobleman in his country. It created a great sensation at
the time. I was then staying in England. She left a letter in which she
expressed her desire that her _enfant d'amour_ should be brought up and
educated in France, adding thereto the phrase I have just quoted. We
have a saying, "Do not cast away good dictum on account of the person
who uttered it." Those words--I mean "La France," etc.--though uttered
by a female of her type, left a deep impression in my mind. They are so
fine and touching. I dare say many a Frenchman has used, and still uses,
that phrase, at least in his mind. _Apropos_ to that story, I will tell
you an incident. Several years after that event I was in Japan, and
dined one evening with some friends, the party including a few
foreigners. There were no ladies present. As is usual, a good deal of
merry chatting went on among us after dinner. On that occasion I
narrated to them the story of the event just mentioned, and, of course,
recalled that phrase to their remembrance. One of the foreigners
suddenly said, "I was the man concerned in it--I was the man." You can
imagine how awkward I felt. It is always necessary to be on one's guard
in society. One never knows who a person may be. The incident, however,
will serve to show how vividly the phrase remained in my memory.'
--'Now, baron,' interposed the duchess, 'permit me to ask you to explain
a problem which I am unable to solve myself.'
--'What is it?' I replied. 'I am always ready to answer your questions
as far as possible.'
--'The ideals as well as the whole structure, both political and social,
of your country,' continued the duchess, 'seem to differ, as far as I
can judge, from the ideals and doctrines of some of the Socialists of
the West. According to these latter, there can be no patriotism, as the
essence of their teaching is cosmopolite and not national, and there can
be no such social and political structure as, for instance, those which
your country adores. And yet, on the Continent, the Socialists are
disposed to be more friendly to your country than the other sections of
the communities. On your part, also, you appear to be more intimate, or
at least more acquainted, with people belonging to that class. Excuse me
if my remarks are too personal.'
--'I am not intimate,' I interposed, 'nor am I even acquainted with
many. But please continue.'
--'Well, in England, for instance, it is the Conservatives who are more
enthusiastic about your country, and the Liberals only rank second. I
cannot make out how all that comes about on the Continent.'
--'I do not think English sympathy for Japan has anything to do with
their home politics. Look at America! The form of the government and
their political ideas are totally different from ours, and yet they have
shown great sympathy to us, as you must have observed.'
--'American democracy, nevertheless, is more apparent than real,' said
the duchess. 'Their methods are more monarchical than republican. When
once a man is elected President, he is like a monarch. He has a wide
scope for political movement in his hands. He chooses his ministers
independently of the Congress, and the ministry is not dependent on the
Congress; in other words, there is a concentration of power and also the
continuity of it, though the person of the President may change after a
certain lapse of time. Look at Mr. Roosevelt, what a position he
occupies in his country.'
--'For all that,' I said, 'America is a republic. American sympathy for
Japan cannot be explained by the theory you put upon the American
polity. The sympathy of the Anglo-Saxons arises, in my opinion, chiefly
from their perception of the justice of our cause, and from their
appreciation of the humane and enlightened behaviour of the Japanese.
This is my plain opinion. No one can fail to perceive a great contrast
in these respects between the two countries engaged in the war. The
sympathy of the European Socialists is somewhat similar, I believe. The
conditions of Japan are much nearer to their own ideals than are those
of our opponents.'
--'That is very likely,' said the duchess, 'but Japan as she is cannot
be an ideal object of admiration to them; their sympathy appears only to
be based on comparison. Why, there was even an assertion by some
Socialists that Japan was liked only because the autocracy of the other
side was disliked. By the bye, you said the other day, that you did not
like to apply the term "revolution" to your great change of 1867.'
--'Yes, I said so.'
--'And I agree with you,' continued the duchess. '"Revolution" means
upsetting and destroying everything, but you never had anything of that
kind. Your emperor assumed a new authority, but it was only a
restoration, or, in other words, unification of power; then, too, the
sovereignty of his majesty's family is so antique that there is again a
great continuity of power: those are the points which make Japan so fine
a nation.
--'Well,' I continued, 'we do not like to apply the term "revolution"
to our great change, because that term is usually applied to a big,
popular movement against established governments, which, while
destroying one, sets up another. That is to say, the term is generally
used in a political sense. The history of our great change differs from
that, because, although the Shogunate Government was upset, the other
Government, namely, the Imperial, which was reinvigorated and had come
to exercise again its full authority, had always existed, and the
sovereignty had continued to rest with the heads of that Government,
namely, the emperors; that you know very well. Nevertheless, with regard
to the social aspects of the change, one cannot say there has been no
upsetting of things. As a matter of fact, almost everything has been
upset; restoration and innovation were the two currents of thought then
prevailing. The main work was restoration, but almost everything else
was innovation, or at least renovation. Hence, almost every institution
and material object which was old was destroyed, or nearly destroyed,
beyond all necessary limit, almost in the same way as was experienced by
England under the Long Parliament, and France in 1789. I don't mean
there was in Japan any such sanguinary deeds perpetrated as those by the
Jacobins, but the general social currents of events were something like
those of French and English experience. There was even a suggestion made
by serious people of cutting down the big trees of a fine park in the
middle of Tokio and turning it into mulberry fields, on the argument
that the latter would be beneficial to the nation, whilst the former was
a useless luxury. At one time, indeed, even the word civilisation was
much abused: of course, not in such a way as Madame Roland lamented the
abuse of the term "liberty," because our abuse of the word
"civilisation" was neither political nor serious. It was chiefly so with
small social matters. For instance, when one wished to dispense with
some of the old customs and manners, which he deemed too rigid and
inconvenient, he would cast them away light-heartedly, with the remark
that "it was not a civilised method." Of course, a great change like the
one we have made can only be carried out under such circumstances as
those, accompanied necessarily by great sacrifices. Without doubt, it
would not do if the same thing went on endlessly. Fortunately we have
managed to tide over that transitory state, and have produced the Japan
of the present day.'
--'Whatever may have been the social aspects of your great change,'
said the duchess, 'one thing is undeniable, and that is, that its best
results have been brought about by the unification and continuity of the
_pouvoir_--I mean, authority. But by saying this, I must not be
misunderstood, especially in this country, as saying that a continuity
of authority is necessarily to be connected with heredity, for I
maintain, for instance, that the Catholic religion is a specimen of
continuity in the person of the Pope. But, baron, was there any outcry
for "Liberté, Egalité, and Fraternité" at the time of your great
change?'
--'No, not exactly,' I replied. 'Our struggle was not one of the lower
classes _en masse_ against the upper classes. Besides, our lower classes
were not in such a desperate condition as those of France in her
troubled days.'
--'You know already,' proceeded the duchess, 'that those three terms
contradict each other if carried out literally.'
--'That is true. But by similar reasoning, all terms of virtue are
contradictory if carried out to the letter. Thus, the extremity of
patience makes one a fool; that of bravery, foolhardy; that of charity,
lavish; and that of extensive love of all things, makes one a
sentimental weeper. Forgive me if I am a little polemic. However, there
is one thing that I think I have not told you, and that is this:
Although there was no definite cry for the three "té's" during our great
change, some vague notion of them was observable during that event and
some time after. It was during that transition period that the French
notion of personal right based upon the civil law got into the Japanese
mind a little too strongly in opposition to the idea of public laws
based upon the principles of State and common good. Thus, for instance,
a man did not scruple to cut down whatever forests belonged to him, no
matter whether or not by doing so irreparable public injury should be
occasioned; his notion being that his proprietary right of the forests
stood over any other right. In other words, the notion of private laws
was not reconciled with that of public laws. We have had to bring about
an amelioration, and to enact fresh laws to regulate the forest
question, much on the same lines as the old regulations which had
previously existed in many parts of the country. There have been many
other matters much similar to this. I may also add that proper respect
between inferior and superior, and younger and elder, was also slackened
at one time, which is a sort of misuse of equality and fraternity.
'But to return to our discourse: all the arguments I have heard from you
to-day remind me of an anonymous political pamphlet which I happened to
glance at. It speaks of the necessity of unification and continuation of
authority. It speaks of the advisability of non-dependency of the
Ministry on the Chamber, and it speaks of the self-contradiction of the
three terms. I almost suspect that the writer of the pamphlet is
influenced by you, or you by him, or is it a coincidence?'
--'No matter,' said the duchess lightly, and continued; 'I think there
are no Socialists in Japan--at all events, not worth speaking of, as a
party?'
--'Very true,' I interposed.
--'I thought so,' continued the duchess; 'Japan is not a country
compatible with the ideas and doctrines of Socialism: she does not want
it.'
--'And yet, some points of her aspirations,' I said, 'deserve attention.
It is the duty of an enlightened Government to anticipate the legitimate
requirements of the lower classes, and to make the spread of dangerous
doctrines useless.'
--'And Japan does so, I suppose,' said the duchess.
--'Well, we are doing our best,' I answered, 'more especially because
the introduction of Western methods of progress tend to produce all
sorts of evils, though, of course, the benefit derived therefrom is
comparatively far greater in its way.'
--'The freer a country is, the less it is likely to be disturbed by
socialistic or nihilistic movements, you mean, I suppose,' said the
duchess.
--'It is not all, but something like it,' I said. 'England and America
are free from those movements.'
--'France is a free country,' said the duchess, 'and yet she labours
under an overpowering influence of Socialism.'
--'It seems true,' I said.
--'You might say because she is too free, perhaps,' said the duchess.
--'Or, rather,' I replied, 'she might be paying the penalty incurred
during the ancient monarchy of the misuse of its power.'
--'Maybe,' she answered. 'But I am far from believing in real power of
that party. It is, of course, foolish to ignore an existence of such an
element. They have, however, never been in office. Suppose they have
formed a Government, what do you think will come out of it? At all
events, I can never agree with some of their extreme views which, if
carried out literally, would mean an abolition of the army and navy, the
Government, even the State.'
--'The subject is too intricate for me,' I said; 'I give it up.'
--'At all events,' she replied, 'there being no socialistic party in
Japan, as you say, is it not all the more strange that no cordiality
seems to exist between Japan and the French Nationalists, whose notions
and ideas resemble those of the Japanese.'
--'We can have no sympathy, still less concern, with any political
aspiration of a section of other people as far as their domestic
politics are concerned. But I do not see why the Japanese should not be
willing to be friendly with the Nationalist section of the French
people. Of late, the Japanese have not seemed to be _persona gratæ_ with
your Nationalists, if there be any such section. But it is not our
fault. They have shown through their partiality to our opponents much
antipathy to Japan. It is another reason why the contrast between the
Socialists and other sections of the French people has become, or
rather, once became, so manifest as regards their attitude to my
country.'
--'But the Nationalists are not enemies of Japan. In fact, it was the
Nationalists who disapproved ten years ago the action of the Government,
which joined in the combination of the three powers against Japan.'
--'Maybe,' I said, 'but the general tendency of that section, since the
outbreak of the present war, has not been so favourable to us as you
would have liked.'
--'But you must make some allowance for the fact that France is the ally
of the other side.'
--'I do so, but the contrast in tone between different journals is so
marked, and the papers which are most bitter against us, at one time
were those reputed as the organs of the Nationalists.'
--'That may have been so,' said the duchess, 'and there have even been
some which were rather misleading. I confess I was rather surprised when
once asked by a member of a respectable family, "how it was that the
Japanese were near Moukden, whilst we had been informed by the press all
these months that the Russians had been constantly gaining victories."
Probably that family happened to take in some exceptional journal, and
perhaps only one. But you cannot read journalistic opinions only and
regard them as the real views of the Nationalists. They have, in
reality, very little influence over the papers; I wish they had more.
Journals generally go their own way: I cannot and must not explain why.
Besides, the socialist journals also have not been friendly to Japan
from the very beginning. They became so only when the contrasts between
the belligerents had become somewhat manifest. They were shrewd in the
matter: the Nationalists were slow; one had to awake them.'
--'I was not here at that time,' said I, 'so I cannot offer any
observation thereon. But, madam, is it too impertinent for me to ask if
French interest in Russian bonds are much in the hands of Nationalists?'
--'Oh no,' answered the duchess. 'I wish they were; but you see our old
families are not like those of some other countries. The interest of the
Russian bonds mostly concerns petty people who have invested in them
their hard-earned savings. It is, therefore, all the more unfortunate
that the present war should be protracted.'
--'I envy France,' I said, 'that she has such a saving people: it is in
consequence of this that she has, as I am told, some billions of surplus
francs every year.'
--'That, I believe, is the case,' said the duchess.
--'As to the friendly relations between your country and mine, let us
hope that a time happier than the present may arrive soon, and the
sooner the better.'
--'I hope so, too,' said the duchess, 'and we must try to make it so.'